


Hereafter

by Lucidiux



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! GX
Genre: M/M, gx au, gx fanfiction, johan x judai, judai x johan, spiritshipping, yugioh gx - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 02:44:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5074363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucidiux/pseuds/Lucidiux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was a soft voice, but like the other sensations it felt distorted, like he was experiencing everything from behind a thick, translucent curtain. It smeared his vision like a smoke screen, and the only thing bright enough to pierce it was a pair of harsh, emerald eyes gazing down at him with a vibrant intensity." Spiritshipping AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hereafter

**Author's Note:**

> "Neither situations nor people can be altered by the interference of an outsider. If they are to be altered, that alteration must come from within."  
> -Phyllis Bottome

The city hung on the skirts of midnight, grasping to its hem as the organized chaos of rush hour quickly began to subside into anarchy. It was Friday night, and their iron-pressed uniforms laid somewhere at the bottom of their closets—which had been laid asunder in their search for more fun and embellishing attire—as a casualty of the rebellious freedom granted to them by their approaching sovereignty over the night. Like a pack of wolves they arrived, flooding the streets with their glossy cars and stomping feet. Flashing lights and the vibrations of music followed their lead, as though welcoming them back to their urban habitat.

 

There was nothing particularly strange about that night. At least, not to him, who considered it routine to watch as his fellow classmates beset the metropolis in their rowdy enthusiasm. He himself along with his companions partook in the undertaking, bouncing on the edges of their leather seats as they cruised through the heart of the town which was thrumming with life.

 

“Could you quiet down back there? I’ve got a headache and the concert hasn’t even started yet!” There was a pause as said classmates, stirred by their driver’s groaning protest, abandoned their coarse singalong to the lyrics thumping through their radio.

 

“Jeez, relax a little, will you?” He muttered back in response as the driver reached down to tweak the volume of the radio down to a barely audible murmur. The passenger’s enthusiasm gradually died down, along with the vibrations of music rocking the Corvet.

 

“Judai’s right, Manjoume- _kun_.” The blonde woman sitting beside him interjected. Her voice a mild reproach and her smile somewhat admonishing. “This is supposed to be a fun night for all of us. We should make an effort to enjoy ourselves before our exams.”

 

Despite its best efforts, a sudden aura of timid dismay doused their spirits as her words quickly set in; a tragic reminder of the approaching end to another school year. It wouldn’t have been such a looming topic among them, if it weren’t for the fact that they were rapidly approaching the end of their senior year, tentatively looking out over the cusp of adulthood as preparations for future careers and secondary education began in an almost mind boggling suddenness.

 

That was why she had invited Judai, to exploit what little freedom remained in their dwindling high school years. Or, that was how she had explained it to Manjoume, when she managed to impromptu stumble across an extra ticket for the exclusive concert taking place at Domino’s square that night. Judai had luckily been wise enough to connect the dots:

 

Manjoume’s furtive affections had become something of an inside joke among the group, as Manjoume proceeded to subtly (though feebly) illicit dates from their female friend, Asuka. Fortunately as top of her class, she had cleverly managed to dodge the misfortunate situation by dragging Judai along.

 

Luckily, he had been all too excited to snag a good time out of the deal.

 

Judai moved to lean against the edge of the driver’s seat as they cruised down the highway, frown quickly fading behind a grin as he peeked over the driver’s shoulder. He in particular had been the most excited of their trio, eagerly accepting the ticket as soon as Asuka had explained the premise of their night out on the town. Luckily, Baseball season didn’t start for another week or so, and by those terms, the rowdy siege of a dancing, partying, riling and whooping crowd of overly stoked teenagers was just what he needed to kick off his senior year.

 

“Oi, Manjoume,” He prompted, a devious grin spreading across his lips as he pointed to the other’s expression in the rear view mirror. “Are those frown lines?” He teased, before being hazardously swatted away by the exasperated driver.

 

“Use _‘Thunder’_!” The teen, Manjoume, or rather, Thunder, as he seemed to prefer snapped in mounting exasperation. The brief quarrel aroused a chorus of laughter from both passengers, including Asuka, who chuckled softly at his plight. Judai felt his smile grow wider.

 

No, there was nothing particularly strange about that night at all.

* * *

 

By the time their party had arrived, the square had become packed to its full capacity, anchoring an innumerable amount of people who seemed to already be surging with energy despite the empty stage that stood above the throng of eager spectators. Tents were pitched along the outer rim of the vicinity, marked by logos or signs. Vendors hovered over counters, exchanging sodas and boxed candies to patrons who could manage to wave their money frantically enough as the chaotic noise around them stifled anything below an ear-piercing shout or holler.

 

The grass was already littered with a colorful array of wrappers and empty cans, most of which were encrusted with mud as they had likely been stomped on in the midst of the pandemonium. It was a sea of strangers and colors, an ecstatic wave of crowded anticipation and an insatiable lust for noise. Noise, and not music; the crowd had already achieved a high of its own without the thrumming of a base or the sensations of a rhythmic beat.

 

His friends all looked hesitant as they stepped out of the car, blasted by the sharp presence of chaos as the dull sounds muffled by the interior of their shiny black Corvet grew more vivacious and resonating. Judai however seemed only to grow more eager as the pulsing of the ground beneath them met his feet, and a fire of enthusiasm lit his gaze as he watched as the tidal wave of colorful individuals flooded an invisible barrier of sparsely placed security cones and tape.  

 

As they approached what appeared to be a makeshift admissions station, they each rummaged for their tickets, before handing them off to a pair of officials who made a scrupulous effort to review the fine print for authenticity. Once it was determined that the trio could enter, they unclasped the security rope dividing the concert grounds before allowing the teens to enter without protest.

 

Up close, the cacophony of shrieks and fervent roaring from zealous fans and the shuffle of muffled tunes playing in the background was deafening. Even Judai, who’s tolerance exceeded most, felt a strange vibration in his throat as he winced.

 

“Guess we’re just on time then!” He rose his voice just over the roaring of the crowd, watching as an array of neon strobe lights sporadically flared across the square. The pair behind him nodded absently, though Judai failed to notice as his attention was inadvertently captivated by the scent of cured meats and succulent sweets carried over through the crowd. He could feel his stomach rumble along with the stomping vibrations beneath them in anticipation.

 

His hungry gaze followed the line the concession stands surrounding the kaleidoscopically-lit park. “We should get a bite to eat!” He hollered again, this time throwing a look over his shoulder at the pair, who both stood tentatively with hands placed over their ears.

 

At this idea Manjoume was strangely stirred, the hint of a clever notion flashing behind his eyes just as he moved to drape an arm none-too-casually over the brunet’s shoulder. It was a seemingly and rather uncharacteristically friendly gesture, prompting their friends to stare incredulously.

 

“That’s a great idea!” Manjoume encouraged, his companion’s dubious expression quickly devolving into confusion as the brunet blinked and shot him a sidelong glance.

 

“It is?” He muttered, though Manjoume appeared to ignore him.

 

“We should get ourselves some refreshments before the show starts.” The teen rationalized, “Tenjoin- _kun_ , what about you? Would you like anything?” There was an earnestness in his voice as the blonde hesitantly shook her head, shooting him a suspicious look. Manjoume seemed to be the only one who failed to pay it any mind as he grabbed the brunet by the arm and proceeded to haul him off through the crowd.

 

Opening his mouth, Judai found himself caught between objection and enquiry, though he was given little more than a moment to compose himself as he was yanked from the sea of warm bodies in which they had dived and pulled into what appeared to be something akin to an air pocket. He was disoriented for a brief moment, before Manjoume conspicuously thrusted a lofty wad of cash toward the brunet’s chest.

 

Blinking, he regarded the fist-full of cash, hesitantly taking the unceremonious offering. “What’s this for?”

 

“Go buy yourself whatever you want.” His cryptic explanation, or rather lack thereof, was met with a look of stupefaction. Manjoume rolled his eyes.

 

“This was supposed to be a date between myself and Tenjoin- _kun_.” He elaborated, revealing a pent up frustration in his words that made the brunet nearly feel guilty for having sabotaged their “date”. It was a fleeting feeling however, ultimately replaced by a building exasperation as he suddenly realized the position he had somehow corralled himself into; ultimately, he decided he wanted as little to do as possible with the ironic turn of events as he took the money with a more solidified sense of initiative.

 

“It’ll just ruin the romantic mood if you’re hanging around us. And I doubt you’ll want to be around when I begin to woo her.” Manjoume reminded, eliciting a sound of troubled humor from the brunet. Well, at least one of those things was somewhat true.

 

“What does that mean for me?” He muttered, irritation ebbing away as he glanced down at the sum of cash in his hand. Without even counting he could discern a good six thousand yen poking out from his fist. At least if he was going to be the ejected third wheel, he’d be doing it on a full stomach.

 

“I don’t know, just do whatever it is you usually do when you’re out with your baseball buddies.” He supplemented hastily, “Just make sure you’re here when the concert starts. I don’t want Tenjoin- _kun_ to think her kindness was wasted on you.”

 

 _Kindness._ The brunet thought wryly with barely a smile. The part of him which should have felt guilty for what seemed like deception was quickly becoming overpowered by a more or less paining irony.

 

“I guess so…” His voice trailed off. A hesitant consent, though Manjoume seemed content to take his vague agreement to heart.

 

“Your noble sacrifice is noted.” He received a dutiful smile, which the brunet doubtfully though unwittingly returned. Any other person might have been shocked, insulted, even, but when it came to being friends with Jun Manjoume, Domino’s personification of new money and pride, you eventually got used to his antics. Luckily by that logic, Judai was essentially immune.

 

The exchange was brief, marked by Manjoume promptly withdrawing from the brunet’s vicinity with a sudden and nearly uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Judai was barely given a moment to reconsider as his companion disappeared into the crowds once more, likely to presume his disillusioned date.

 

He shrugged it off as he watched the other disappear; if there were two things he didn’t understand, it was romance, and Manjoume’s unusual affinity for it. And he didn’t try to, no matter how many times his friends took turns taking jabs at him for it. Still, it didn’t bother him as much as it seemed to them, after all, baseball was his only woman.

 

 

It wasn’t long before his hunger returned, and the brunet decided to do precisely as Manjoume had advised: he purchased a hefty order of octopus balls, along with a large soda in order to cease the incessant rumbling in his stomach. If nothing else, Judai would have considered any activity which included food as worth any measure of sacrifice. After all, you didn’t need anyone else to enjoy the succulent taste of fried dough and soda pop.

 

 

Finding the seat which was printed on his ticket, as he’d soon decided, was an endeavor to be pushed off until the concert was due to start. According to the blinking digits displayed on the screen of his phone he still had approximately fifteen minutes to burn until the opening band was even supposed to debut. Aside from that, his seat was likely somewhere close to Asuka and Manjoume’s, so he decided to wander around through the crowd until there were at least five minutes left for him to spare.

 

His eyes skimmed over the various stands, peering over long lines and loitering teens to get a peek at what vendors had to offer. He wasn’t usually the type to buy souvenirs on a whim, but with 5,000 extra yen hanging around in his back pocket there wasn’t much of an excuse not to at least scope out what looked remotely interesting.

 

Just as he’d spotted one stand in particular, which seemed to have the shortest line in the row, he felt himself collide with something of a much larger, stockier mass than his own. The collision caused him to teeter, a series of misfortunate events unraveling as gravity itself seemed to shift, causing something wet and sticky to douse his clothes. He was dazed as he stumbled back nearly half a yard, before careening to the ground.

 

He winced, feeling his rear collide with the cool, calcified surface of concrete. Luckily, he managed to save himself from a concussion, palms instinctively stretching outward behind him in order to break the fall for the rest of his body. Despite the save, his skull still felt rattled, as though someone had grabbed his head and given it a relentless shake. There was another wince as he gently managed to remove the palm of his hand from the concrete, ignoring the sting of gravel which had embedded itself into the heel of his hand as he pressed it against his forehead.

 

The impact had been so jarring that, for a moment, he wondered if he had somehow run into a wall which he had not seen, as he peered up from behind a curtain of disheveled bangs. That possibility diminished as he caught sight of a man towering over him.

 

He must have been at least six feet tall, boasting a broad frame that by any standards seemed intimidating, as he hovered unmoving above the student. His feet, as opposed to Judai’s own which had failed to keep any measure of stability remained glued to the ground, poised like a statue, or a rock which had merely endured a mild wave; one which might take years, centuries even to so much as begin eroding its impermeable layers.

 

He looked like something out of those American athletic magazines his mother occasionally brought home as a souvenir from one of her business trips, except his pale, brawny muscles were barely confined in what looked to be an ill-fitting T-shirt sporting the logo of an occultist band, likely the one which was set to play that night. He noted this before making eye contact with the stranger, whose gaze seemed, despite their unceremonious collision, brimming with the shine of a subtle amusement.

 

“S-Sorry…” He stammered, blinking as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. There was an unease welling inside of him however as the stranger’s shaded eyes seemed to size him up for an uncomfortable moment. It reminded him of a lion towering over its prey, a blaze of tousled, coiling, apricot hair framing the bold shadows of a proud jawline and pointed cheek bones.

 

“You should really watch where you’re going.” He spoke as if it were the punch line of some inside joke, the student noted, his voice laced with the same lacquer of bizarre amusement. It caught Judai off guard, and his next thoughts faltered before they had a chance to voice themselves.

 

 

The stranger, despite what seemed to be an unusual gratification in his demeanor, took advantage of the student’s distraught silence in order to sidestep his fallen body. The brunet followed his narrowed, cat-like eyes, dumbstruck as he watched the male saunter away in a graceful, yet roguish manner.

 

 _What’s his problem…?_ The teen thought to himself bitterly as he watched the stranger’s back retreat. That was two strikes, and his evening wasn’t getting any more fortunate as he began to realize that his clothes had been doused with soda stains.

 

He frowned, picking up the empty cup which had unwittingly spilled out its contents in the aftermath. He wasn’t about to add littering to the list of misfortunate ordeals lining up that night as he began searching for a bathroom. There, he would survey the damage. Though, judging by the way the soaked fabric of his T-shirt clung and rubbed against his abraded skin, what hopeful prospects he had were already dwindling.

 

It didn’t take long before he spotted a cluster of restrooms. Luckily, these lines weren’t as daunting, and within the few moments it had taken to find the lavatory he was able to shuffle in and make a beeline for the row of sinks and mirrors which lined the adjacent wall.

 

Evidence of the spill was of course obvious; the faded white hue of his fabric had become obscured by about a large coke’s worth of soda, sticking to him like a second skin as he uncomfortably attempted to shift and bend his body in a purposefully prolonged attempt to inspect the damage. A part of him hoped that if he stared at the stains long enough, they might by some magical means become less conspicuous, though that ideal quickly began to diminish the longer his eyes lingered on the mirror.

 

Well, he supposed, it was good thing he still had a good portion of the money Manjoume had bribed him with, because it was likely he’d need to purchase a new shirt.

 

He checked his phone. Ten minutes before the concert was due to start. With that in mind, he made a mental note to pace himself as he ripped a few paper towels from the cartridge hanging above the sink.

 

Bunching the disposable towelette between his fingers, he dampened a good portion of the papery material before using it to scrub away the sticky layer of scum which had adhered itself to his skin. However, as his eyes incidentally returned to the mirror to inspect his progress, he froze, the flickering silhouette of something golden catching his eye.

 

 

For a moment, he dismissed it as a trick of the harsh fluorescent lights buzzing behind him. His eyes narrowed as he shook his head, managing to refocus his gaze: there was a figure lingering behind him, of which was undoubtedly feminine, judging by the mosaic of strong curves and shapes which configured her striking profile. She was unnaturally illuminated, not by the lights which flickered indecisively above them, but by the curtain of golden locks which cascaded past the outline of her muscular shoulders, as though someone had taken the sun and turned it into a waterfall of twisting curls and curvatures.

 

Her clothing exposed the shape of her body, showcasing an array of shadowy outlines and shapes that hinted at an unusually brawny build. What struck him however as the array of glinting armor which she wore above it; she appeared like an image out of his history book, something, or rather someone who would be showcased in a museum. It was hardly something one would expect to be worn, particularly at a punk rock concert. In any case, there were plenty of other reasons she seemed alarmingly out of place in a male’s public bathroom.

 

He froze, feeling her eerie gaze seek out his own with a burning decisiveness.  He instinctively drew in a sharp breath; rusted amber eyes were peering at him from across the room, much like the edge of a golden sword penetrating its victim with harsh precision. For a moment, he wondered if he was imagining the slight chill which appeared to have beset the atmosphere around them as he watched her retinas burn into the mirror; her gaze was like the approaching glare of headlights, and suddenly he felt like the deer who stood in its trajectory.

 

It seemed like an eternity before he managed to tear his gaze away long enough to regather his sense, however, it had taken only that long for her reflection to approach him from behind like the flickering silhouette of a ghost. He barely had enough time to register the harsh clicks of her heels fastly approaching before he felt a set of sharp nails dig into his skull, and the ringing in his ears as his forehead collided with something cold and sharp.

 

He reeled back from the sudden impact, fingers slipping against the wet corners of the porcelain sink as his body crumpled to the tiled floor. He wasn’t sure which part of his body was first to hit the ground, nor was he certain when he felt his jaw crack what it was as he felt his knees give way and his skull bounce back. He could scarcely register anything through the mirage of black splotches and swirling colors in his vision that seemed to beat in time with the stuttering echo of a drum playing in his skull.

 

He could register a cacophony of chaos ensuing simultaneously around him; there was screaming in the foreground, the sounds of stall doors being thrown open and feet scurrying like a parade of frantic mice. The repeating din of something shattering echoed through his ear drums, but he couldn’t quite discern it through the obnoxious pounding in his head.

 

His fingers stretched out across the tile, slipping against shards of mirror which were scattered over the emblazoned surface as he blindly attempted to find a clear purchase. He cringed as he felt something metallic begin to accumulate in his mouth, though he had little time assess the damage as something cool and brass-like wrapped around his ankle, dragging him across the ground like a dead weight.

 

When it finally stopped, something hard and heavy pressed against his chest, encumbering his body and tethering him to the ground where he attempted to focus on the golden blur hovering above him.

She was speaking something, but it sounded like an entirely different language through his dazed state as he feebly wrapped his hands around her ankle in an attempt to remove the weight of her foot forcing itself mercilessly onto his chest. His resistance however was met with purposeful force, driving her heel further into his sternum. A cracked sound of desperation choked was choked out from his throat as he thrashed beneath her, ignoring her words as he gasped for air.

 

His vision began to focus once again as he stopped reeling, watching as she unfurled what appeared to be a golden chain whip from his ankle. He felt like hollering for some sort of aid, however the weight of her crushing his chest deprived most of his oxygen. A surge of adrenaline began to rush through him, and as he pushed against her heel he managed to pry just enough for him to roll out from beneath her.

 

There was a snap, followed by the sound of something thick and metallic striking against the tile, where he had just narrowly escaped what appeared to be a deliberate lashing. All of the sudden, the pounding in his skull formed a frantic anthem as he staggered to his feet, pushing against the nearest stall. He dove, slamming himself back against the door in an effort to seal it shut behind him.

 

His heart was racing, as though there was a fist clamped around it, and it was struggling against its tightening force in an effort to resist exploding. His knees were trembling of their own accord, and his legs threatened to give out beneath him as he forced himself to remain calm; one thing was for sure, whoever she was, and whatever she wanted, he had to find some way to evade her, or at least stall her long enough for help to arrive.

 

His thoughts were jarred as he felt something collide with the other side of the stall door, placing a sizable dent that conformed against his body. Questions suddenly dissolved into an adrenaline driven instinct as he dropped to the ground, rolling into the neighboring stall. He slid onto his stomach as he managed to clear the danger zone, before dragging himself with his forearms through the breaches between each of the stalls.

 

Each crack of the whip followed him, and despite his swift and constant evasion, she managed to break through one of the doors which had remained ajar before swooping over him and wrapping her fingers viciously around his wrist. There was barely enough time to shout as she heaved him upward, only to fling him back onto the ground with a swift flick of her wrist.

 

The sound of his skull cracking against the tile shook him for a second time, and a wave of nausea overcame him with a fierce cogency. This time, there was an audible groan as he squeezed his eyelids shut, attempting to regain the focus in his vision which was once again lost in a swirling mixture of warped outlines and melding colors.  He tilted his head to the side, feeling a warm liquid begin to trickle from his scalp. The sound of her strong, approaching steps was clear this time despite the incessant pounding in his ears, and despite the panic which arose within him, he found himself virtually paralyzed.

 

He was dazed as she stepped over him once more, this time positioning her feet on either side of his body. His consciousness had become a smeared certainty, fading  away at the corners like a piece of paper gradually burning from the edges. His pounding thoughts had become muffled like a background frequency, and vaguely he could register the sounds of a base guitar vibrating through the ground.

 

Suddenly there was another sound—something crashing and slamming against the walls in a chaotic succession—which barely stirred him from his semi-conscious state. For a moment, he imagined that it was the sound of another ruthless blow, and he marveled at the absence of shock which he expected to receive before something like a shadow hovered above him, and he bravely peered up through the curtains of his cracked eyelids.

 

_“Judai.”_

 

It was a soft voice, though like every other sensation it felt distorted, as though he were experiencing everything from behind a thick, translucent curtain. It smeared his vision like some sort of smoke screen, and the only thing bright enough for him to register was a pair of harsh, emerald eyes gazing down at him with a vibrant intensity.

 

He tried to move his lips, but as soon as he did the image faded into a receding specter, a heavy sensation dousing him like the feeling of something retreating from outstretched fingertips. The fervent aching of his body dissolved into a dull throbbing as a familiar darkness took him into heavy arms and cradled him.

The curtain which had stood between himself and that waning image gradually pulled back, turning misty outlines into harsh lights and edged outlines. Green eyes faded into the colors of his ceiling tiles, and the feeling of the cold tile beneath his body gave way to the silk of the sheets caressing his body.

 

He draped a forearm over his eyes as morning flooded in through the curtains, chasing away the shadows of his nightmares once again.

 

Another dream.

_No, there was nothing particularly strange about that night at all._

 


End file.
